


stood on my chest (kept me down)

by galileostooru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Friends With Benefits, Haikyuu Angst Week 2020, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Rough Sex, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27470800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galileostooru/pseuds/galileostooru
Summary: Only idiots tear their hearts out and stitch their skin back up, only to feel empty and call it love. That’s exactly what Atsumu is doing; he’s hurting all over.Haikyuu Angst Week 2020: Day 1 (Unrequited love)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 100
Collections: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020





	stood on my chest (kept me down)

**Author's Note:**

> it's very implicitly mentioned, but the characters are in college/university so they'd be in their early 20's.
> 
> thank you mods, for organizing this angst week and fulfilling all my desires.
> 
> i'm new to the hq fandom, come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/galileostooru)! ☁️

“Addiction isn’t the way to go, Atsumu.” 

Osamu sighs as he picks up glass bottles and trashes them in the bin, cleaning the chaotic mess of what was once Atsumu’s safe haven. The boy laid sprawled on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling before heaving himself up and snatching one bottle from Osamu’s hands. He attempts to remove the poison from Atsumu’s grasp but backs away when Atsumu lets out a snarl.

Atsumu downs what’s left inside the bottle, letting his throat burn as he squeezes his eyes shut. The alcohol was a good distraction, as someone who has little tolerance, but he still couldn’t get those thoughts out of his mind. Even when he closes his eyes he could still taste Sakusa in his mouth, even though the alcohol had numbed his tongue. No matter how much he cleaned himself and scrubbed his body raw; he could still feel hands roaming about his body, worshipping him and bruised lips leaving sinful kisses in his wake. 

Though Atsumu’s skin is healed, he could still see blue and black bruises blooming sporadically on his skin, all the way down his arms. He knows his collarbones and neck must be littered worse. That’s all left of Sakusa on his body, creating such a beautiful mess although it was only short-lived. Atsumu still craved for more, blissfully aware that he shouldn’t.

Osamu halts his movements when he realizes Atsumu is just staring off into space. He softens. “‘Tsumu, are you okay?” 

Atsumu wonders how bad he had to look for Osamu to ask him so with that frown on his face. 

“Yeah,” he answers half-heartedly, taking a final gulp before rolling the empty bottle to Osamu’s feet. “Just peachy,” he joked and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to lighten up the grim atmosphere with a hoarse chuckle, but Osamu remains unfazed. As much as Atsumu feels like shit, he hates the constipated look his twin wore. It reminded him of his fuck-ups. One of the fuck-ups included Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“He was here last night, wasn’t he?” It’s a waste of breath, of course Osamu knows the only reason for Atsumu to be this distressed. He shakes his head and balls his fist; he feels anger rising like an ugly monster trying to rip its way out of him. He tries to quell his temper but his patience is already running thin, “I’m really going to punch him this time.” 

Osamu hates seeing his brother wallowing in sadness and being destroyed by Sakusa. With a final resolve, he ties the trash bag and is ready to walk out the door to give the bastard a solid right hook, when Atsumu croaks out a miserable, “‘Samu, no.” He sucks in a shaky breath; doesn’t dare to look at his brother in the eye. “I’m fine, ‘Samu.” He insists, hugging his knees to his chest, “You know how it is...”

Osamu narrows his eyes. “Yeah, I do,” He says out in frustration. “I know how he’s clearly using your time and affection for his own benefits.” 

“So what about it?” Atsumu replies harshly. He doesn’t bother denying it, at least not anymore, but the truth still bites like a new wound every time. The fact that everyone knows he's just an object of amusement for Sakusa; someone to fill in the empty spaces only when Sakusa deems it necessary. It's complicated, really. He should be angry, should be throwing a fit for having his feelings taken for granted and lying to himself that he’s fine and they are in love. 

And definitely not missing the boy even in his barely sober state. 

That’s already another lie Atsumu had told himself. 

Atsumu often prides himself on being a rational person but even he knows there's no proper explanation behind this pit of emotional mess he stumbled onto. He’s in love with a man who doesn’t love him back. Only idiots tear their hearts out and stitch their skin back up, only to feel empty and call it love. 

That’s exactly what Atsumu is doing; he’s hurting all over. 

Atsumu lays back down on the floor when Osamu no longer waits for his petty answers. Despite everything, Atsumu feels the most sorry for him. It must suck seeing your own brother in the most disheveled state and not knowing how to help. 

“You’re an idiot.” Osamu says before he turns to leave. His tone is not unkind, in fact Osamu is never unkind. “You’re so stupid and I’d slap you the next time I see you be this stupid again.”

They never let the fight draw out for too long. That’s the best thing Atsumu cherishes most about Osamu. He lets out the first genuine laugh of the day, eyes closed as he whispers; barely audible, “Thank you, ‘Samu.” 

Osamu sighs as he runs his hand over his unkempt hair. He gives one last look to Atsumu, a huff of protest and opens the door, making his way out of the place. “Suit yourself,” he calls out. 

The door shuts and Osamu’s footsteps begin to slowly fade, leaving Atsumu alone once again with his demons.

  
  
  
  
  


When Sakusa knocks on his door later that night, clothes stenched with cigarettes and beer, Atsumu feels a curl in the pit of his stomach as he opens up to greet him. He knows how this usually ends up.

Sakusa barely makes out a simple hello with that trademark smirk of his that shows when he removes his face mask, the one that always makes Atsumu weak before pressing his chest to Atsumu, one palm almost immediately reaching behind his neck to pull him closer. They kiss messily. Sakusa hungrily, as if he hadn't seen Atsumu just the night before. It still makes Atsumu jump every time Sakusa pushes his tongue between his teeth, roaming languidly on the roof on his mouth. Atsumu moans, just like every other time, tugging on Sakusa’s tie or jacket or whatever he’s wearing (tonight, a collared button-up), dragging him further into his college bedroom, one that Sakusa is all too familiar with.

Atsumu sits on the edge of his table, thighs wrapped around Sakusa’s waist while Sakusa unbuttons the top of Atsumu’s shirt and gives small kisses on his skin, working his way up from the bottom of his neck. 

“How’s your day?” Sakusa asks. Almost romantically as if he cares, if Atsumu wants to dwell over it again. For now, he just sighs in content, biting his lips to silence a whimper when Sakusa bites down a little too hard. 

“It’s fine”, he hums, his hands messily combing through Sakusa’s tousled hair with an attempt to smooth out the tangled locks delicately with his fingers. They acted almost like lovers. _Almost._ Because despite of Sakusa’s attempts to make a small talk before he ravages Atsumu’s body, he knows that the small affections given were compensations every time they fuck. 

To Atsumu, he craved Sakusa's attention and care. 

To Sakusa — Atsumu is another boy he indulges pleasure with.

“Yeah?” Sakusa murmurs as he shrugs off his shirt, adding onto the growing pile on the floor and Atsumu does the same. He wastes no time kissing Atsumu’s bare skin; his lips brushing slightly on his shoulder and nibbling his collarbones; he treats Atsumu’s skin like a canvas and every inch of his skin should be painted with his mark. 

His hands trail down Atsumu’s body - whose face is flushed red with need - stroking the clothed erection. “I can make it even better, love.” Atsumu whines out, “ _Omi, please_ "; the nickname he gave Sakusa so many months ago rolling off his tongue in need and desperation. Sakusa knows Atsumu has a sensitive neck, so he kisses the spot just near his Adam’s apple before sucking on the skin while pulling Atsumu’s sweatpants off. Atsumu’s head feels light as he feels the cold air brushing his already hard erection and the tingling sensation of Sakusa’s teeth sinking on to his skin. 

Sakusa then wrapped his hand around Atsumu’s cock, his thumb brushing the tip slightly and began to stroke it slowly as he continued his ministrations. Atsumu is already a mess as he clawed Sakusa’s chest demanding him for more. Sakusa chuckles and smirks at Atsumu’s desperation, “I barely started and you’re already this hard and needy.” 

“Stop being a tease,” Atsumu pouts and unbuckles Sakusa’s belt, discarding the rest of the clothing on the floor. 

To be honest, Atsumu doesn’t care much about the sex. Sure, he likes it when Sakusa’s body is flushed hotly against his and their sex is often nice, but Atsumu likes it more when it ends. When the night becomes quiet and all that’s left is a sleepy Sakusa whose features seem softer, almost child-like when he’s just lying down next to Atsumu, catching his breath. When Sakusa is naked and not just by not having articles of clothing on him; but along with his cool exterior, the tough and uncaring facade is all stripped down.

Atsumu won’t tell him, but that’s always his favourite side of Sakusa.

“What are you thinking about?” Sakusa murmurs in his right ear, hovering over him on the bed. Sakusa is probably a little too tipsy since he’s talking more than usual. Atsumu can’t deny that he likes hearing his voice rather than just the rustling of sheets, though it can get a little too rough when Sakusa is under the influence of alcohol. Sure enough, when he pressed two digits into Atsumu’s hole, Atsumu had to swallow a cry threatening to escape his lips. He’s still sore from their last night events; had to limp around to get things done, but it’s Sakusa. How can Atsumu ever say no to Sakusa?

He clasps his fingers on Sakusa’s back — trailing his forefinger down the latter’s spine before squeezing at the hip, earning a low groan from the man. He didn’t stop there, knowing exactly how and where to rile Sakusa up. 

“Well, nothing much just…” He pauses, looking at the man above him with heavy-lidded eyes. His hand that was previously resting at Sakusa’s hip then slowly brushes the skin there, his fingers moving rather slowly to grasp Sakusa’s cock and stroking it in time with Sakusa’s fingers thrusting roughly inside of him. “Thinking about you fucking me and how you would feel inside me.” After murmuring those words into Sakusa’s ears, Atsumu nips lightly at his earlobe, causing Sakusa to buck his hips in Atsumu’s hand, his rhythm faltering slightly and moaning.

“Shit,” he hisses, pulling his fingers out of Atsumu and pries the latter’s hands off him. “You’re really asking for it,” he growls and forcefully turns Atsumu over, with his back facing Sakusa. Atsumu feels the air knocked out of his lungs, barely registering how Sakusa’s hands are pressing his body against the mattress — one hand wrapped tightly around Atsumu’s neck to force him down, squishing his face against the pillows and another roughly grabbing Atsumu’s ass. He could feel the fingers digging deeper, forming new prints over the fading bruise. He could, however, hear Sakusa’s voice dripping with lust as he grinds against Atsumu – dick hard between his cheeks, “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t feel your legs.”

Despite the slight discomfort Atsumu is feeling from the rough treatment, he couldn’t help but feel aroused and derived pleasure from the pain being inflicted upon him and dirty words spilling from Sakusa’s mouth. He pushes himself against Sakusa, turning his head for his eyes to meet the man, “Go on, then,” he purrs, inviting the man behind him to ravage his body. “Fuck me.” 

Sakusa doesn’t need to be told twice. He enters Atsumu in one long stroke, feeling Atsumu stretched around him until his balls are pressed against Atsumu’s ass, causing the man under him to whimper at the dull ache of his stomach from being filled by Sakusa. 

Atsumu closes his eyes, bracing himself for Sakusa to thrust relentlessly as he always did but the man stayed still, except for his thumb that lightly circled around Atsumu’s waist as an attempt to soothe him from the pain. It struck Atsumu as odd — because _this_ drunk Sakusa is acting like he cares for Atsumu like his boyfriend. Though Atsumu usually overlooked such actions, he couldn’t deny it gave him hope that maybe the man will return his affections. Though, it was always crushed every time he witnessed Sakusa with a new person being smothered by him. He wants to be exclusive, but he knows that word will never exist in Sakusa’s dictionary. 

To be frank, Atsumu is fucking tired of it. 

He doesn’’t know how or what compelled him to do so — maybe it’s the underlying dissatisfaction he suppressed when he saw a girl pressed against Sakusa earlier today; or that he already accepted the fact that they are just fuck buddies and nothing more, but Sakusa keeps pulling this boyfriend act that makes Atsumu fall for him all over again; or maybe the constant alcohol poisoning he puts his body through has turned his inhibitions and filters off — he doesn’t know, but it made him snap at Sakusa. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he grits out. Sakusa looks at him, disoriented and puzzled. “Hmm? Being inside your tight ass of course,” he slurs while stroking Atsumu’s thighs, causing him to tremble. Atsumu glares at the man over his shoulders and couldn’t help it as words tumbled out of his mouth, laced with contempt and topping it off with a glare, “You should be fucking me, Omi-kun. Using me as a sex doll like you always do every night. Cut the lovey-dovey bullshit and move, you bastard.”

Atsumu sort of regrets spitting those words out when Sakusa’s face turns cold and gives him a blank stare, his expression unreadable. From the tight grip he has on Atsumu’s ass, fingers digging into the flesh he knew that he had triggered Sakusa’s wrath. He pulls out of Atsumu slowly but before he could open his mouth to say sorry, Sakusa slams his hips back into Atsumu, cutting him off and fucks him mercilessly. 

Instead of apologies, Atsumu lets out a loud moan, his fingers gripping the bed sheets tightly and tries to push himself up using his arm as leverage as an attempt to rock back and meet Sakusa’s harsh thrusts. When Sakusa angles his hips and his thrusts hits Atsumu in all his sensitive places, his strength gives away and he falls helplessly onto the mattress, his thighs trembling and his dick throbbing between his legs. He knows he is close.

Sakusa’s hand that tangled on Atsumu’s hair pulls him up; tears prick Atsumu’s eyes from the stinging pain of his scalp and drool dribbling out of his swollen, bloodied lips. Sakusa wraps his other hand around Atsumu’s waist to reach for his cock which was already wet from precum and stroking it in time with his thrusts. Sakusa leans in close to Atsumu, his hot breath against Atsumu’s ear causes goosebumps to rise on his skin. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he smirks, licking the shell of Atsumu’s ear causing the man to squirm. Atsumu gives no direct reply other than a moan, urging Sakusa to go faster and harder. “Look at you, letting yourself be fucked by me so desperately. I guess you really are a good boy toy.” 

“Omi, please—” he begs, spreading his legs wider and his nails digging into Sakusa’s arms. “I need— _ah_ , to cum.”

“Come on, you fucking slut. Cum for me,” When Sakusa bites hard on the nape of Atsumu’s neck and gives another hard thrust, Atsumu lets out a garbled cry of Sakusa’s name, clenching around Sakusa who hisses from the tight sensation and continues to fuck Atsumu while the other cums. White streaks paint his abdomen and the bedsheets dirty. He pants from shortness of breath and his muscles are fatigued from the intense fucking and he lets himself to fall flat on the bed. 

Sakusa wasn’t done yet and he’s still hard inside Atsumu. Ignoring Atsumu’s whimpers of protest and feeble attempts to push Sakusa off him, he spreads Atsumu’s legs wide and pounds into him without letting Atsumu recover from his high. 

“Fuck—” Atsumu’s breath hitches in his throat, feeling pain shooting up his nerves. “Please, Omi. I can’t—” He tries to scramble away from Sakusa, but he is pinned down on the mattress. 

“Come on baby boy, I barely even broke a sweat. Be good for me,” Sakusa smirks, pushing Atsumu’s thighs further apart and having them wrapped around his waist as he let loose — his thrusts violent and uncontrolled, almost animalistic. He chuckles as he watched Atsumu teetering at the edge of losing his mind and body twitching from overstimulation, “Have I ever told you that I love fucking your ass the most?” 

Atsumu moans at the praise, ignoring the ugly feeling of jealousy bubbling in his chest targeted at Sakusa’s past and current sex partners. Sakusa didn’t really expect a reply from Atsumu, so he continues, licking his lips with mirth as he enjoys Atsumu’s reactions, “Your ass is so tight and hot, baby. I bet you love it every time I stretch you open and finish inside.” 

“You want me to cum inside you tonight? Fill up your tight little ass with my cum?” Sakusa punctuates each of his sentences with a snap of his hips. Atsumu feels lightheaded and delirious — his body is still sensitive, and his dick is throbbing painfully. He nods, not trusting his mouth to speak a perfectly arranged sentence to convey his desires. He wraps his arms around Sakusa’s neck and clings onto the man, his nails scraping Sakusa’s back and he could hear Sakusa groan, heels digging into his lower back.

Sakusa keeps up with his brutal pace and his hands reach out in between their sweat glistened bodies to stroke Atsumu’s sensitive cock. What spills out of Atsumu’s mouths are incoherent sentences and words stringed together — most of them are explicit and derogatory words; pleas and cries of Sakusa’s name. 

He’s slowly spiraling into insanity, all his sensations coming together at once. He feels like he’s going crazy — maybe from the heat of Sakusa’s body pressed against him. Or maybe from Sakusa’s tongue swirling around Atsumu’s pink nipple, sucking and his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. Or maybe the obscene sound of skin slapping from Sakusa’s hard thrusts, hitting deep inside of Atsumu and how sinful words of degradation and praises enunciated by his husky voice combined with the intense stare of his on Atsumu’s naked body, always sending shivers down Atsumu’s spine. 

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he whispers, slamming his hips into Atsumu while his hand starts to stroke Atsumu faster. “Cum for me, Miya. Just one more time.”

When Atsumu bucks his hips, cumming for the second time that night, he decides that his mind is completely melted by the haze of overstimulation and sensitivity. He could only let out a painful sob, his vision blurred from tears forming and threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes. He lets his body be tugged and pushed around by Sakusa, who is now chasing after his own release. 

He lets out a growl, fingers digging into Atsumu’s waist leaving an imprint on it. Atsumu could feel something warm filling his insides and he quivers in Sakusa’s strong arms as his teeth sink into Atsumu’s shoulder to stifle his moans. As soon as he finishes spilling his seed inside Atsumu, he pulls out and lifts himself off the bed to get dressed. Atsumu looks at him, confused and hurt written all over his face. He wanted to confront Sakusa but he couldn’t be bothered. He’s tired, spent and thoroughly wrecked.

After Sakusa fastened his belt and buttoned his shirt, he took out his phone and judging from the way he reacts to the messages he neglected to reply during their intimate session, he’s not going to spend the night at Atsumu and instead at the new girl’s place. He probably has sobered up enough just to keep his lips pursed and his guard up, because usually, drunk Sakusa would come over to Atsumu to plant a wet kiss on his lips with a lot of tongue involved, of course, and a little souvenir picture he always took as a memento — of Atsumu in a provocative position like his ass up high in the air and his asshole spread wide to reveal Sakusa’s cum spilling out of him onto his milky white thighs. Then, he would fall asleep, unconsciously draping himself over Atsumu and pulling him closer to engulf him in an embrace on the bed without cleaning themselves up in Atsumu’s clothes. 

Today, he paid no heed towards Atsumu. Confident strides across his apartment, he proceeds to make an exit from the place, adamant to wrap up their little rendezvous in haste. What’s little left of courtesy in him made sure to switch off the lights in Atsumu’s room and a low voice muttering “ _Good night_ ” loud enough for Atsumu to hear. 

When Sakusa let himself out of Atsumu’s house that night, the door clicked shut and his fading footsteps were the last of what Atsumu would hear from him. 

That’s how Atsumu found his pathetic self — curled up on his messy bed; naked and crying his heart out in the dark. He feels so low and dirty, as choked sobs and whimpers escape his bruised lips, fresh tears stream down freely on his already tear-streaked face. It was cold that night, but he feels so numb. His heart is broken for what could be the nth time and he could vividly hear Osamu’s frustrated voice and exasperated sigh saying, “I told you so many times, but why won’t you fucking listen?” He almost laughs at that, but he bites his lip, afraid of the thought of what would happen should Osamu find out the mess Atsumu got into. Knowing his brother, he would instantly march over to hunt Sakusa down with a trusty baseball bat casually resting against his shoulder and swing it around violently in a mad rampage if the target is spotted within his vicinity. At least, that is what that could happen but Atsumu knows Osamu is capable of something far worse than the scene he conjured in his mind, and he shudders at the prospect of it. 

He can’t even bring himself to feel angry. Back then, whenever Sakusa abruptly leaves, he would let out his anger on himself — which always ends up with him having a killer hangover the next morning and head over the toilet bowl to throw up everything out of his system. If only his problems could be cured by purging, every mess he got himself in would be solved instantly. He can’t even drag himself to the bathroom to cleanse himself, to scrub every single inch of his body raw. Because he knows it’s pointless. Because everytime he looks at himself in the mirror, his mind would wander to what happened that night and the marks covering his skin serves as a painful reminder of what he has between him and Sakusa - or rather how little he has of him _._

Tonight, he has no one to turn to. Sakusa left him for good this time. Osamu is not there next to him, away to visit his boyfriend that week. That’s when he truly feels utterly alone; eyes swollen and face puffy from crying too much and just fucked wetness in between his thighs — he hugs himself to sleep in darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! this piece was written two years ago with no characters in mind. coincidentally found it back when i was going through my drive and thought, "hey.... sakuatsu but make it PAIN." i hope i achieved it, let me know if i did!
> 
> would love to read any of your thoughts or comments 🤍


End file.
